


Drunk Derek

by randomquixen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, bed sharing, beta!derek, drunk behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomquixen/pseuds/randomquixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Derek has no tact when shutting down advances, he ends up telling a witch that he was nowhere near drunk enough to sleep with her. She didn't think that was as funny. Naturally she cursed Derek to be perpetually drunk. </p><p>Now Stiles has to drive a stupidly drunk Derek up to Montana to get yet another witch to remove the curse.<br/>It wouldn't be a problem if Derek didn't have issues with personal space and a slight obsession with scent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Derek

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm 28,000 words into this victorian AU I'm writing and I decided I needed a break and wrote this instead. 
> 
> Scott is the alpha, Derek is in his pack as a beta, just to let you know for the whole twenty seconds this is actually useful information.

“Stiles, we have a problem.”

Stiles sighed as he listened to Scott on the other end of the line.

“What is it this time, Scott?” he asked, there wasn’t any screaming in the background, so he was okay with feeling resigned instead of terrified.

“It’s Derek.” Scott said.

Stiles perked up instantly. “What’s happening?”

“Meet at the clinic, I’ll tell everyone there.”

“Okay, be there in twenty.” Stiles said, now a little anxious, and hung up.

 

Stiles was last to arrive at the clinic and when he walked in the door, he was enveloped in a very solid hug.

“Stiles!” came the happy drunken slur.

Stiles squirmed around trying to identify the hugger because he couldn’t believe what the voice was telling him.

The hugger eventually let go.

“Derek?” he asked, still incredulous. Sure he and Derek had gotten past their outright disdain but they were not at a hugging place yet.

Stiles hoped whatever was going on, when Derek got back to normal, he wouldn’t kill Stiles just for being present when he felt like giving out hugs.

“What is going on?” Stiles asked his smirking alpha.

Scott looked like he was holding back giggles as Derek draped himself over Isaac, who just laughed and clutched the clearly drunk beta.

“Derek pissed off a witch and she put a spell on him.” Scott laughed.

“What kind of spell?” asked Stiles, eyeing Derek who started giggling at nothing in particular.

“I believe that Derek has become perpetually intoxicated.” Deaton said, entering the room.

“By a spell?” Stiles asked, eyebrows knitting together.

“We were at a bar and I think Derek said something along the lines of, ‘I’m nowhere near drunk enough to go home with you.’ to a witch. She didn’t think that was so funny.” Isaac said, shifting Derek as he started to slip down his side.

“Or she thought of a way to make it funny,” Allison shrugged, moving forward to take some of Derek’s bulk away from Isaac.

Derek looked at Allison and made a face.

“So what, is he going to be perpetually giggly?” Stiles asked, starting to snicker as Derek started blowing raspberries.

“No.” Deaton said, “Based on what I have seen of the spell, Derek appears to be going through several phases of drunkenness. At the moment he is jubilant, but that will likely change.”

“Awesome.” Stiles was losing his enthusiasm, “how do we fix him?”

“I’ve contacted a witch in Montana who has the required ingredients to reverse the spell.”

“Great,” Stiles said, clapping his hands, now far more enthusiastic, “when do they arrive?”

“There lies the problem.” Deaton explained, “The witch must perform the reversal with Derek in her presence and due to her age she is unable to travel, therefore Derek must go to her. In his current condition he cannot travel alone, so someone must go with him.”

Stiles looked to Scott, “Who are you sending?” he asked.

Scott dropped his gaze and looked a little beseeching. “I can’t send a wolf into another territory without getting the proper permissions first and we don’t have time for that. Since Derek is injured he doesn’t count. I need to send a human but it can’t be Allison because I don’t think the witch would like having a hunter there, so I was kind of hoping…” Scott trailed off giving Stiles the patented puppy dog gaze.

“You want me to take him?” Stiles slumped, already preparing for the inevitable.

“Yea…” Scott said, “You’re good with him! You should be fine!”

Stiles raised his eyebrows and even Scott knew how weak that was.

Derek started giggling again and Stiles sighed, “Fine.”

XXX

Stiles had been driving nine hours, most of which was next to an unconscious Derek and he was seriously bored.

It occurred to everyone that Derek couldn't really take a plane in his condition, so joy of all joys Stiles got to drive his ancient jeep cross-country.

If it died, Derek was so paying for repairs, or better yet, a whole new jeep. 

He may have spent the first two or three hours making Derek do hilarious and slightly stupid tasks because he was too drunk to say no, but Derek falling asleep had kind of taken the fun out of that.

Stiles was really hoping Derek ended up blacking out all of this.

Nonetheless, Stiles had been sitting still, or relatively so, the last several hours and he _needed_ to get out of the car.

Not to mention there was something about driving for hours on end that just made a guy sleepy.

They passed a motel and Stiles pulled off the road immediately.

“Okay Derek, just stay here and I’ll go get us a room.” Stiles announced to the still unconscious Derek.

No response.

Not exactly unexpected but Stiles wanted a little more, “Okay, keep breathing for ‘sure thing, Stiles,’ and stop for ‘that’s a horrible idea.’”

Derek did in fact keep breathing.

“Good enough for me.” Stiles mumbled, climbing out of the car.

He walked up to the front desk and bought a room for the night with two twin beds. He went back to the car, grabbing their stuff and taking it to the room before coming back and grabbing Derek.

“Come on big guy,” Stiles said, slinging Derek’s arm over his shoulder.

“Stiles,” Derek said, a little forlornly, “I miss home.” Derek sniffled like he was on the edge of tears, “I miss Scott. He’s my alpha. I like my alpha. I miss my alpha.” Derek started sniveling and Stiles bit back a smile.

“Okay, let’s just get you inside.”

“No!” Derek whined, “I wanna go home, I miss home!” Derek stopped holding himself up and flopped over Stiles who started to crumple under the sudden extra weight.

“Ah! Derek no, just get to the room, it’ll alright.” Stiles said, trying to push Derek’s very solid mass back up straight.

“But Stiles! I miss them!” Derek started breaking down in real, unabashed tears.

“Oh my god Derek, I’m sure you do, but let’s just get in the room, I promise it will get better.”

“You promise?” Derek asked, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“I promise,” Stiles huffed and Derek mercifully picked himself up and started moving to the room again.

Stiles unlocked and opened the door one handed and managed to dump Derek on the bed.

 Derek rolled over onto his side and huffed, curling into a ball.

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes Stiles started digging through his bag to find his tooth brush. He had to pull out two pairs of jeans and a blanket from his bed back home before he found it and disappeared into the bathroom.

He heard Derek moving around in the other room but he ignored it in favor of getting ready for bed.

XXX

Derek rolled around on the bed, trying to get comfortable, but this didn’t feel right. It didn’t smell right.

Derek wanted to go home.

He wanted his pack. He wanted his alpha.

And he never thought there would be a day when he wanted Scott.

As he rolled around more on the unfamiliar bed, he caught a whiff of something. He followed his nose, snuffling up the bed, chasing the smell and he caught it as he stuck his nose onto the blanket on the bed.

_Oh my God, it smells like home!_

Derek buried his nose deeper and deeper into the blanket, trying to envelope himself in the scent.

It smelled of Beacon Hills, of Scott, and a lot of Stiles. Stiles wasn’t a happy smell, or he hadn’t thought it was, but it reminded him so much of home.

He snuffled into it, trying to get more of the scent. He cupped his hands around his nose and dug his face into the blanket, trying to block out the other strange smells and inhale only the blanket’s. He breathed deeper and deeper trying to fill his senses with it.

He whined loudly and started mouthing the blanket, trying to get the scent to imprint itself into his tongue as well as his nose.

“Derek? What are you doing?” Stiles asked, coming out of the bathroom.

“It smells like home.” Derek explained, morosely, mostly because he had to lift his face from the blanket to speak.

“Okay…” Stiles clearly didn’t know how to deal with Derek’s most recent behavior, but Derek didn’t care, he just wanted to smell the blanket some more.

Derek promptly buried his face into the blanket again.

“I guess that’s that.” Stiles said shaking his head and going to lie down on the other bed.

He really wanted to poke fun at whatever the hell Derek was doing, but he seemed a lot like a lost puppy right now, and was a little too pitiful to make fun of.

There was no way he was going to be able to separate Derek from his blanket, so Stiles just grumbled and climbed under the covers of the other twin bed.

“Ah, happy.” Derek sighed from the comfort of Stiles’ blanket and Stiles ended up giggling himself to sleep.

XXX

Another six hours into driving the next day and Stiles seriously needed to pee.

Derek had been pretty loosey goosey the last few hours, babbling random stories about embarrassing things Laura had done to him when he was little.

Stiles loved that Drunk Derek was comfortable enough to tell stories about his childhood without getting stone faced at the thought of his family.

Stiles equally loved the ammunition he was gaining by finding out how Laura had dressed Derek up as a girl and presented him as Dee Dee. Not to mention the origin of the nickname Der Bear as Derek had had quite the collection of stuffed bears growing up.

As amusing as those stories were, Stiles bladder was not one to be ignored and stopping was a serious priority.

Stiles pulled over at the first available rest stop, which was located in the middle of nowhere, and parked right in front of the automatic doors.

“You need to pee, Derek?” Stiles asked, unbuckling his seat as fast as possible.

“Nope.” Derek responded popping the P and swaying back and forth as he started to giggle. “This feels really cool.” he chortled.

Stiles snickered and left Derek in the car as he ran inside.

He couldn’t have been gone five minutes, okay maybe more but he bought some food and some water bottles. Stiles was sure that even being magic drunk, Derek needed extra water if he was going to be okay. Anyway, Stiles came back outside to find Derek with his hands around the throat of some random guy.

The guy’s friend was screaming obscenities at Derek and was approaching him fast, fists flying.

“Hey! Woah, what the hell is going on?” Stiles screamed, running up to Derek.

The currently choked out guy started spluttering, waving his arms around and trying to kick Derek who would not be moved.

“Shut up, you fucker!” Derek screamed, his face turning red.

So now Derek was Angry Drunk.

“Ain’t it a little early to be drunk, dickwad?” shouted the guy’s friend, his words slurring as he had clearly been drinking as well.

“Isn’t it a little early to be a douche?” Derek shouted back, not tightening his hold on the first guy’s neck but not loosening it either.

“Derek! calm down, let him go!” Stiles yelled, coming up and pressing his hands into Derek’s forearm to try and lower the chocked out man.

“No! No one insults my pack and gets away with it.” Derek growled to Stiles before turning his attention to the man in his hands. “You don’t say things like that about Stiles, you don’t look at Stiles, you don’t think about Stiles.” Derek shouted, emphasizing his point by shaking the man back and forth.

“Pack? What the fuck is this fucker talking about?” the guy’s friend shouted, he was clearly uneducated, drunk, and about as red neck-y as you could get living in the rural areas of California, but he was waving his arms back and forth and trying to draw attention to all of them. There weren’t a lot of people here, but it only took one to call the cops.

“Shit,” Stiles swore under his breath, gripping Derek’s arms a little more firmly, “okay big guy, you made your point, time to let the nice man go so we can get out of here.”

“No, people don’t get to say things like that about you!”

“Derek!” Stiles gave up fighting with Derek’s behemoth arms and instead grabbed his chin, angling it so he was forced to look at Stiles. “We need to get out of here, you are drawing way too much attention to yourself and you really can’t end up in jail again.” It had taken forever to convince his dad that Derek wasn’t really a bad guy despite the serial killer look and that time Stiles accused him of murder, Derek couldn’t really afford to backtrack.

Once Derek’s eye contact with the guy was broken, his anger seemed to melt away. “Okay.” Derek said, letting go of the man in his grasp. Stiles let out a breath of relief and grabbed Derek, steering him into the car.

Once Derek was safely buckled into his seat, Stiles turned back to the sputtering men.

“We’re gunna sue! You can’t treat him like that! That freak deserves to go to prison for life. I got a cousin that’s a lawyer and he is gunna sue and put that freak in prison for life!”

Stiles just sighed and begged forgiveness from whatever deity was watching before blowing powdered wolfsbane in their faces and climbing into the jeep.

The two men were left spluttering and coughing, wiping at their burning eyes and screaming Bloody Mary while Stiles drove off.

They were human so the wolfsbane wouldn’t actually hurt them seriously, but the stuff stung when you inhaled it or got it lodged in your eyes.

Once they were safely down the road and Stiles was fairly certain there weren’t going to be any cop cars coming after them, he turned to Derek and glared, “What the hell was that?”

Derek pouted and crossed his arms, drawing up his knees and curling into himself. “He said not-nice things about you.”

“Such as?”

Derek mumbled into his crossed arms, “He called you a pretty-ass fag and made some hand movements,” Derek flailed his arms around as if in example, “I didn’t like.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows, “while I appreciate the defense, you really didn’t need to choke him out, I have heard far worse from people who mattered way more.”

Derek growled, leaning forward in the seat and putting his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “No one should ever be mean to you and if they say things like that they definitely don’t matter. Anyone says anything like that to you again and you let me know. I’ll take care of you. It. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, Derek.”

XXX

Another five hours later and Stiles was DONE. There would be no more driving for the day, Stiles just really needed to crawl into bed and sleep for like a gazillion years.

Derek seemed to be doing better, going through periods of lucidness and sometimes he was mobile enough to get around on his own. The lucid periods seemed to come most often after Stiles forced some food into Derek and made him drink as much water as he could stomach.

When they got to the motel, Derek was fairly aware so Stiles handed him the credit card and dropped him off at the door to pay for a room while Stiles went and got gas before the station closed for the night.

When he came back, Derek was sitting in one of the chairs, holding a key card in his hand. Derek clambered up out of the chair, smiling all big and cheesy, like he was especially proud of the macaroni collage he made in art class.

Stiles just smiled and lead them down the hallway to the room. He spent most of the walk trying to ignore Derek’s latest drunk habit, which consisted of practically draping himself over Stiles’ back, pressing his face into Stiles’ neck and snuffling every five seconds. It was distracting and unfortunately, a little intoxicating.

Stiles was trying really hard to remember that for all intents and purposes, Derek was drunk and wasn’t in his right mind for what Stiles was thinking as he felt Derek’s lips graze his pulse point.

Stiles’ dick didn’t get the message.

Sure Stiles had always had a little bit of a crush on Derek, and maybe at first it had mostly been just lusting after Derek’s body, but come on, Derek had one rockin’ bod. Nowadays though, Stiles’ crush was a little more serious, considering how far Derek had gone to try and help Scott through some of the bigger issues of suddenly being an alpha. When Derek himself wasn’t struggling with dealing with all the new powers and feeling the pulls of every pack member’s emotions, it turned out he wasn’t such a dick after all, and Stiles started to enjoy the time he spent with Derek, learning all the new things about werewolf history.

Scott had appreciated the help, Derek had appreciated the closeness of pack, and Stiles had appreciated the time spent ogling Derek. Sure he and Derek weren’t especially close, but they were close enough that Stiles could confidently say Derek was a friend. More like one of those friends you talk to in that one class, but don’t hang out with outside of school, but still, a friend. A hot friend. A hot friend he ended up jerking off to more than once. But you know, still a friend.

Stiles’ only saving grace was that he had never spent a long enough period of time, excluding when they were in life threatening danger, to have any of his friendly feelings co-mingle with his actual friendliness towards Derek. Thus, prior to this, Stiles had somewhat managed to hide his attraction to Derek from Derek himself. Until now.

Now with Derek pressing his face into Stiles’ neck, being far closer to Stiles than he had ever been when one of them wasn’t bleeding out, the scent of arousal had to be pretty hard to miss.

Stiles just placated himself by knowing that they would get in the room, get into separate beds, and when he was sure Derek was asleep, he would sneak into the bathroom and jerk off a few times to get rid of the halfy he was sporting at the moment.

Or you know, forgo the waiting and just book it to the bathroom, embarrassment be damned. Besides, Stiles was still holding out hope Derek wouldn’t remember any of this.

Stiles stuck the keycard in their door, paused to grab the bags, and then tumbled into the room, weighted down by the heavy bags and a heavy werewolf.

It was only when Stiles collected himself, while still lying on the floor, that he realized what was going to be a very big problem.

The room consisted of a rickety desk, a mismatched chair, and a king sized bed.

This was not happening.

No way in hell was Stiles going to spend the night in the same bed as Derek Hale without sexy times, and there would be no sexy times so long as Derek was drunk. So seriously, no bed sharing with Derek freakin’ Hale.

This was not happening.

Derek, apparently, had no such qualms and just dived into bed, chanting the very astute mantra of “bedbedbedbedbedbed.”

“Derek?” Stiles asked, creeping closer to the man who was currently wiggling around in the sheets, flailing his limbs around, looking like one of those dogs you see worming their backs along the carpet. “Is there a reason got us a big bed instead of two twins?”

Stiles held onto all hope that maybe this was Drunk Derek’s way of telling Stiles that normal Derek had a thing for him and wanted to spend time in the same big bed together.

It was totally possible. Really. It could happen. Derek could totally have a thing for Stiles; spastic, loud, crazy Stiles.

“Big Bed. I loooove big beds.” Derek emphasized this statement by sitting up only to throw himself back into the giant bed and roll around more it.

So yeah, maybe the one bed thing didn’t have anything to do with Stiles and was more about just wanting a big bed.

Oh well, so long as the bed was big enough, maybe they wouldn’t run into any morning problems. Last night Derek had slept curled into the tiniest ball, surely tonight would be more of the same.

Stiles just closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face before sighing. He was tired from driving, tired of taking care of Drunk Derek, and tired of oscillating from annoyance to horniness based on Derek’s behavior.

Instead of saying anything else, Stiles just grabbed his stuff and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

He really missed the days when all the time he spent with Derek, Derek just glared and told him to shut up.

XXX

Derek rolled around in the bed for a few more minutes trying to make sure everything smelled like himself before Stiles came out and got into bed with him.

Over the last two days, the majority of the homesickness had gone away, but Derek really missed the smell of home and of alpha and of pack. Unfortunately the blanket that Derek had been hugging yesterday had mostly lost its scent and now only smelled of Derek himself.

In order to reload the blanket with its glorious homey scent, Derek planned to wrap Stiles in it to recharge the blanket. Stiles smelled mostly of _Stiles_ but he had strong hints of Beacon Hills and Scott and even a little Sherif. Sherif wasn’t a necessarily good smell, but it still reminded him of home.

Actually, Stiles’ base scent was starting to become a little addicting and he really wanted more of it. Derek had never had a chance to smell it for any real period of time and the occasions where he was able to, they were always in danger, giving the smell a bad connotation.

Now however, Stiles smelled like home and like himself, and the blanket had obviously been on Stiles’ bed, so it smelled a little of sex from when Stiles had been jerking off (there were no scents of other people, so it was obvious Stiles was alone) and Derek didn’t know what to do with that information, but he just knew it wasn’t bad information.

Derek’s thoughts were a little too foggy to think past good, bad, home, scents, and the comfort of this really big bed, so he just buried himself under the covers and looked forward to being in close proximity to the really good _Stiles_ smell while the blanket recharged.

Derek flopped around in the sheets for a while before Stiles finally came back, smelling like cheap soap and the barest hints of come. Derek was a little bummed he couldn’t control his other senses enough to have heard that happening, but the shock of being bummed, even with his addled brain, was enough to keep him occupied while Stiles harrumphed around, doing his best to avoid getting into bed.

Finally Derek caught on, his brain hurting too much from trying to think deeply, and grabbed Stiles around the waist, throwing him on the other side of the bed, and then burrowing back under the blankets.

Derek tried very hard not to think about how warm Stiles’ skin had been when he touched it, and he tried very hard not to think too deeply about the warm _Stiles_ scent that was right next to him. Instead he focused on his abating homesickness, cursed his slow brain, and really hoped they got to the witch tomorrow to make the badness go away.

XXX

Stiles woke up the next morning halfway under a very heavy werewolf.

While in theory it sounded fantastic, in practice, he was stuck with Derek’s heavy arm thrown over his face while both of Derek’s legs were thrown over his middle, making it really hard to breathe. How Derek had managed to stretch out diagonally was lost to him.

The currently drooling Derek snuffled into his pillow, said pillow hanging half off the opposite side the of the bed, and his nose twitched repeatedly, his mouth moving like he was eating something in his sleep. Attractive.

Stiles snorted and tried to free his arms from the blanket that Derek had forcefully wrapped around him last night, but with the weight of Derek’s limbs and level of tucked in he was, moving was actually really hard.

Stiles collapsed back and groaned, only to have the sleeping Derek moan in response.

Suddenly, Stiles had absolutely zero problems getting out from under Derek and he was in the bathroom in less than a minute, taking a very quick, very cold shower.

XXX

Another eight hours of driving later, Stiles pulled the jeep into the parking lot right outside Madam Tikisala’s magic shop and poked the napping Derek until he snorted and bolted straight up, smacking his head into the window he had been drooling against.

“Come on dude, we’re here.”

“I’m not a dude.” Derek mumbled, flailing his arm at the seat belt release in some sort of waving command to get it to open on its own. When that failed he started smacking it with hand and grunting at it until Stiles reached over and released it for him.

Derek looked up at him with the biggest cheesiest smile Stiles had ever seen, and it seemed like Derek was thanking him for moving the moon or something.

“You okay there buddy?”

Derek just continued to smile bright and big and it was starting to freak him out.

“Let’s just get you inside.”

“S’okay.”

“Sure it is.”

When Stiles finally managed to manhandle Derek into the shop, the woman behind the counter smiled benignly at them and waited until Stiles pushed Derek into a chair to say anything.

“Welcome, may I assume that you are Stiles?”

“You may.” Stiles said, suddenly wary. “And I assume you were prepared for our arrival?”

“I am.” She smiled again and then reached under the counter and drew out a small bottle filled with vile looking green liquid. She moved around the counter and kneeled in front of Derek. “Can you drink this for me?”

“Sure,” Derek said, perking up and taking the vial without question.

“Wait!” Stiles said stepping forward, trying to get Derek to pause before he downed a liquid that neither of them could identify, “Shouldn’t we--?”

“Shouldn’t you what?” the witch asked, “Deaton asked me to help, so you are going to have to trust me boy.” She glared at him until he sunk in submission.

“Okay.” Stiles said sheepishly, but he still went forward and put his hand on Derek’s shoulder. Derek kind of leaned into the touch, and Stiles just squeezed his hand tighter as Derek downed the vial.

The witched whispered some words in a language Stiles couldn’t identify and waved her arms a little before Derek suddenly slumped over.

“Derek! Derek?” Stiles spun at the witch, “what did you do to him?”

“Relax, child,” the witch just wondered back behind the counter, not the slightest bit bothered that Derek was slumped over on her chair. “The wolf’s body has been fighting a toxin that wasn’t there; it will take him a little while to recover. Think of it like a hangover.”

Stiles snorted, but Derek was still breathing and he looked okay, if a little pale, so he could only hope the witch was telling the truth.

“Okay, come on big guy,” Stiles said, hoisting Derek up and throwing Derek’s arm over his shoulder. Derek was at least capable of holding up his own weight so they managed to get back to the car at a lumbering pace, but once they arrived, Derek fell against the car before bending over and starting to dry heave.

“Oh dear lord, this is almost worse than that time you started throwing up black goo. At least then I wasn’t going to have to put you in my car afterwards.”

Stiles did manage to get Derek in the car, but they drove super slow and with all the windows all the way down.

Stiles found the nearest motel and pulled to a stop, sending Derek inside to try and get them a room while Stiles grabbed their stuff.

When Stiles went in, Derek just stumbled down a hallway wordlessly, and Stiles followed him to their room.

When they got the door open, Derek walked in and face planted in the center of the queen bed and didn’t move. Stiles resisted the urge to giggle, both hysterically and from actual humor because Derek was hung over and Stiles was going to have to sleep in the same bed as him.

Trying to stop himself from thinking about it, Stiles adjusted the curtains to block out the light, grabbed a trash can and set by Derek’s side of the bed, then spent another five minutes pushing and pulling Derek until he was only on one half of the bed and lying on his side facing the trashcan. He even stripped off Derek’s jeans and his shirt so he would be more comfortable.

Stiles walked into the bathroom and grabbed a wash cloth, running it through some cold water before coming back and placing it on Derek’s forehead.

“Just sleep it off dude,” Stiles murmured, before climbing into the other side of the bed. He figured they weren’t going anywhere else today and Stiles could always use more sleep.

XXX

Stiles woke up slowly, but he was warm and cozy in bed. It was only when he went to roll over that he remembered he wasn’t alone.

At some point in the night, both Stiles and Derek had converged in the center of the queen sized bed and Stiles had taken on the position of the little spoon with Derek’s arm clamped around his waist.

Stiles tried to wiggle out from under the arm that was oppressing him, but his wiggling caused a stirring that was not his own, and Stiles found himself with a half-mast dick pressed into his ass.

Stiles flushed and had to keep himself very still because he was fighting the urge to press his ass against that half-mast dick and try to put it up to full.

Derek mumbled something in his sleep and pressed his face against the back of Stiles’ neck before tipping his nose so it was slotted between Stiles’ head and the pillow underneath.

“Smell good.” Derek murmured, and Stiles tensed remembering the golden rule of Derek Hale; don’t take advantage of Derek Hale. No. Just don’t.

Dude did not deserve that after everything he went through.

So Stiles’ natural interest in the proceeding involving his ass and Derek’s dick, wilted rather quickly, leaving Stiles panicking because Derek was supposed to be hung over and hardly able to make decisions about dicks and asses and Derek and Stiles when he just woke up after what was essentially a four day bender.

Plus, when Derek did start making decisions, Stiles kind of hoped they were bigger, more permanent decisions about something more than just a single dick and ass party. Like, a lot more. Preferably with dinner. And a movie. And some serious education on the wonders of DC verses Marvel. And maybe some cuddling. On the couch. With another movie. And the pack visiting. And maybe some double dates with Scott and whoever he was dating, (it could be Kira or Allison or even Isaac at this point, nobody knew). But definitely some pack movie nights. Where they held hands and snuggled the entire night.

And maybe Stiles was interested in a lot more than just having Derek’s dick in his ass. Like maybe he was interested in having Derek himself, all the time.

XXX

Derek woke up because there was a fast and panicked heartbeat jackrabbiting right next to him. He was kind of loath to open his eyes because he was warm and comfortable and surrounded by the world’s best smell, and he really just wanted to sleep a little more.

Instead he opened his eyes, to find the back of someone’s head, someone who was clearly panicking, and it occurred to Derek it might be caused by the fact Derek was physically wrapped around this person, gripping tightly and keeping them from moving.

It was only as he took another deep breath, enjoying the first clear headed moment he had had in days, that he recognized the scent and the heartbeat.

Derek released his arms almost immediately, letting go of Stiles and rolling the other direction, scrambling off the bed as fast as he could while he heard Stiles roll off the other side and hit the floor with an oomph.

Derek looked down and covered his half hard dick with his hand as quickly as possible, suddenly freaking out because HE AND STILES WERE _NOT_ THIS CLOSE.

Derek blinked several times trying to remember everything that had happened the last few days, but it was mostly blurry and he had trouble remembering the details. He remembered lots of driving, of missing the pack, of seeing a witch, of beating up a man at a gas station, and he remembered lots and lots of Stiles.

In fact, the only clear parts of his memory are the bits where Stiles was laughing, or trying to calm Derek down, or chatting away and cracking jokes, and he very clearly remembers Stiles taking care of him. He remembers Stiles making sure he ate, forcing Derek to drink lots of water, Stiles worry at the witch’s cure, and Stiles rolling him over last night and putting a cold cloth on his forehead.

It was kind of hard to regret waking up with Stiles in his arms when Stiles had done all that for him, had taken care of him, and Derek kind of wanted Stiles to keep doing it.

Not to mention that god damn smell.

It permeated everything in the room, it was pack and home and a little bit of the grounding strength of alpha, but mostly just pure Stiles, all spicy and sweet, and Derek really wanted to bury his nose in it. Especially because over the last four days, everything had a mixture of two scents, _Stiles_ and _Derek_ and it was seriously _addicting_. Derek was having to restrain himself from launching back and Stiles and burying his nose in his neck.

Then Derek remembered what exactly had woken him this morning and it wasn’t the delicious smell wafting through the entire room, it was the sound of a panicked heartbeat, one caused by the owners close proximity to Derek himself.

Derek stared at Stiles across the room. Stiles was on his knees, peaking up over the edge of the other side of the bed and staring right back at Derek.

“Morning,” Stiles said, because he really couldn’t stand silence.

“Morning,” Derek said, and it came out deeper and gruffer than he meant to and Stiles shivered on the other side of the bed.

Stiles blinked into the silence for another minute before he jumped up and put his hands up placating. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to take advantage, well actually I think it was little bit your fault considering you were spooning me, but you can’t really be blamed what with the whole drunk thing, and then the whole hung over thing, and I didn’t mean for this to get sexual.”

Derek kind of froze, did he really forget? Oh god, did they have sex and he can’t remember because he was basically drunk for the last four days? Did that mean Stiles was into him enough that they had sex, or was Derek just so drunk he threw himself at Stiles and just can’t remember it?

Derek just stood there shirtless, in only his boxers, and had never felt more lost.

“I don’t remember.” He said, trying to break it to Stiles as carefully as possible.

“Remember what?”

“Us having sex.” Derek said quietly, trying to push his dismay at the thought through his words.

“Uh, we—no, we—that didn’t. No, it, no. I wouldn’t—you were drunk—I was—I wouldn’t—you were drunk…” Stiles just kind of sputtered and waved his hands around some more. “We didn’t have sex, I wouldn’t do that to you while you were drunk. I will always follow the number one rule of Derek Hale. I promise.”

Derek blinked several time and tried to ignore the sudden feeling of loss and dismay that they didn’t have sex, that Stiles wouldn’t have sex with him, and focused on the latter statement. “What is the number one rule of Derek Hale?”

“Never take advantage of Derek Hale.” Stiles said like it was obvious.

“Does that mean you wanted to have sex with me?” that wasn’t actually what Derek had meant to come out, but he refused to blush after it did. Well, he didn’t blush much.

Actually, it was nothing compared to how much Stiles blushed, “I mean, I wouldn’t, not while you were drunk, I just—in general—you are very attractive. Not that that’s--! I didn’t mean, that’s all! I just meant that I wouldn’t say no! I mean, I would want more, but that’s not—I mean it’s not just sex—not that I would--- actually…” Stiles just buried his head in his hands. “Oh my god, kill me now. I am so sorry.”

Derek just stood there a moment longer trying to parse through what the hell Stiles just said. “So… you would sleep with me, just not while I was drunk, but you would want more than sex.”

Stiles just kind of groaned into his hands and Derek was suddenly reminded of a dream he had the other day where Stiles had made that exact same noise right as Derek was going down on him. he was pretty sure the dream sex was moan inducing.

“What more would you want?” Derek asked, and for the first time he was excited for the answer.

Stiles on the other hand, didn’t seem to realize that Derek had no problem with Stiles’ thoughts on the matter of sex. “Oh my god, seriously, I’m sorry, it was accidental sleep cuddling and some naturally healthy, happens to every guy, morning wood on you part. I didn’t mean to confess my annoyingly present crush, but seriously, can we just drop it, I didn’t mean to mention it. We can just move on, go back to Beacon Hills and we can go on pretending that this never happened and that this crush doesn’t exist.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek said, really not interested in forgetting any of this.

Stiles just made a face and opened his mouth to respond but Derek stopped him. With his mouth.

The kiss wasn’t well timed and Stiles’ teeth kind of caught him on the lip, but they righted quickly enough and then when Stiles gasped at what was happening, Derek used it to slip some tongue in.

It took several minutes for either of them to pull back.

“Does this mean that you are interested?” Stiles asked, breaking the relative peace of their labored breathing.

Derek pressed another kiss to his lips. “Obviously.”

“No, not obvious, you spent the last four days hanging all over me, smelling me, smelling my blanket, this could mean anything.”

Derek buried his face into Stiles’ neck. “You smell good.” He mumbled, letting his lips graze Stiles’ skin.

Stiles shivered.

“Derek, I just need to know, when I said I kind of wanted more, were you cool with that?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that.” Derek said, moving back up and planting another kiss to Stiles’ lips.

“Good.” Stiles smiled. But just to be a dick, he had to ruin the moment. “Because it would have been a long few days driving home if you decided my crush was disturbing and disgusting.”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like me? Awesome! Here I am on tumblr: http://burn1ngpag3s.tumblr.com/


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